


Disposable Heroes

by SonjaJade



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen, Military, War, hopelessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 21:33:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10474899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonjaJade/pseuds/SonjaJade
Summary: Is it better to be a murderer or be disposable?





	

**Author's Note:**

> FMA Fic Contest Prompt: Song Lyrics
> 
> Song is “Disposable Heroes” by Metallica, lyric is “Barking of machine gun fire does nothing to me now.”

Sgt. Havoc rubbed his face with his icy hand.  “Damn.  This time last year I was out drinking with my class at the academy, celebrating getting through boot camp alive.”  He sighed as he looked into the bleak black of his coffee cup.  “Now look at me, freezing my ass off in the middle of the desert, killing people I have no interest in even waving to on the street, and drinking the worst coffee ever made.”  He poured it out.  “I’d give my left arm to go back in time.  Or go forward in time.  Just be anywhere other than here.”

The young woman beside him, Sgt. Hawkeye, was bouncing her knees, trying to create warmth in the depths of her blue uniform pants.  “When I first joined the army I was nothing but a scared little girl inside.”  Her mahogany colored eyes slid towards the sky.  “The first time I fired a gun I nearly cried from fear.  The sound was so loud, and I associated that bang with pure evil and hatred.  But now…”  She looked back into the fire.  “The barking of machine gun fire does nothing to me now.  The pop of my rifle is almost calming.  I know if I hear that pop and see my target go down in the scope, I’ll live.”

They were both quiet for a while.  Havoc offered Hawkeye a cigarette, then lit one for himself when she refused.  “You know, I feel sorry for the infantry men.”

“Why’s that?” she asked as she watched him blow a puff of blue smoke through his nose.

“They’re firing mortars and blindly shooting automatic rifles, never knowing whether or not they’re gonna hit their mark, never knowing if the next crack of gunfire is gonna be aimed at them…  There’s so much uncertainty on their part, like they’re disposable.  But us snipers…  ‘One shot, one kill.’  How many times did that asshole drill that into our heads?  ‘Every bullet has a name,’ and ‘Death in a metal casing’ and all that shit.  It’s just like the alchemists.  When we pull the trigger, someone dies.  When they do their alchemy, someone dies.”  He turned to give her a weak smile.  “So I don’t know which is better, being a murderer or being disposable.”

Hawkeye remembered the conversation between The Crimson Alchemist and herself, Mustang and Capt. Hughes.  She asked Sgt. Havoc, “Even though their blood is on your hands, do you ever say to yourself, ‘I got ‘em!’ after you take someone out?”

He dragged on his smoke.  “I think it’s only natural to feel like that.  We trained long and hard to get our accuracy as close to perfect as possible.  If you didn’t wanna kill people you shouldn’t have joined the military.” 

“I guess I thought the bad guys would be easier to spot.  I don’t see how an entire race of people- I don’t see how _children_ could be considered evil enough to exterminate.”

Havoc sighed as he lit another cigarette, watching the changing of the shifts up near the mess tents.  “I do as I’m told, I collect my paycheck and hopefully when this is all over, they’ll think enough of my loyalty to gimme a desk job.  Anything’s better than running that stupid general store that my folks own.”  He scooted a bit closer to her.  “But enough about all that crap, let’s say you and me go back to my tent and properly warm ourselves up?” he asked as he leaned in close enough to smell her hair.

 _Shnick-click!_  Havoc’s eyes widened as he felt the cold round barrel of her hand gun under his chin.  “I don’t think so, Sergeant,” she said, and the young man put his hands up and slowly backed away.

“I’m sorry, Sgt. Hawkeye.  I’ve forgotten protocol, forgive me.”  He heaved a sigh when she uncocked the pistol.  “I think I’ll go change my pants now,” he said as he got to his feet.

She smiled, unaware that Mustang had watched the exchange from where he was standing.  “I think that’s best.  I think I’m going to try to get some sleep, Havoc.  I’ll see you in the morning.”  Riza holstered her firearm and gathered her coffee cup and blanket.  As she was walking back to her tent, Mustang caught up to her.

“If you shoot him, I’ll attest that it was an accident,” he grinned.

Chuckling, she responded, “I won’t shoot him.  He’s just trying to deal with this the only way he knows how.”  She stopped.  “Can you tell me, sir, is it better to be a murderer or to be disposable?”

His dark eyes softened on her.  “In nature, it’s survival of the fittest.  Last one standing wins.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Riza, the answer doesn’t matter,” he whispered.  “You’ll still wake up in this hell tomorrow.”

She nodded.  “Yes, I understand.  Good night, sir.”  Hawkeye turned to leave when he grabbed her hand.

“Come find me next time you wanna talk.  Havoc’s a little too touchy-feely for my liking.”

“Did he get too close to you, too?” she asked with a serious look on her face.

He gave a single laugh and let her go.  “Not hardly.  Get some sleep, Hawkeye.”

When she returned to her tent, she settled herself in about a dozen blankets and laid down to try to sleep.  She reflected on her conversation with Havoc, reflected on the day’s kills, reflected on all the blood she’d seen that day.  _‘I have to find a way to detach myself from it all,_ ’ she thought to herself.  As she slept through the cold night, visions of dark red roses and red velvet cake floated through her mind, all _good_ things the color of blood.  The next morning, she awoke with calm and cool assassin’s eyes, ready to kill.  Sgt. Riza Hawkeye might be a murderer, but here in the battlefield, ‘murderer’ was just another word for ‘hero’.


End file.
